Chryed Monday
by Mushroom Hair
Summary: Tell me why.


**_Hello :) Here's my take on a Monday morning chez Chryed. Hope you like it :) xxx_**

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><p>Glowering across at the sleeping figure under the pile of crumpled bedclothes, Christian shook the box of Cheerio's fiercely, sending the contents clattering loudly into his bowl.<p>

Stirring, Syed's dark hair spread messily across the pillow, and he rubbed his nose drowsily, pushing a tendril away from his face.

Christian lifted his spoon high and let it drop onto the table.

"Treacle.." Syed's eyes shot open, and he gazed, unfocused, across to the table.

"..Hello?"

"Hmm." Dashing in the milk, Christian retrieved his spoon and shovelled up a mouthful of cereal.

"What time is it?" Syed yawned loudly, and propped himself up on his elbows.

"Twenty to nine."

"What the..? Why didn't you wake me?"

Pretending to read the back of the packet in front of him, Christian rolled his eyes.

"I did."

"Yeah, but after that. I've got a client at nine.." Lifting the duvet, Syed glanced down at his stomach. "I'm covered in you…"

"You didn't complain at the time. Moaned a bit maybe.." Christian commented, suddenly cheerful at the memory.

"Oh shut up.. I need a shower."

Syed darted towards the bathroom, and Christian slowly moved Cheerio's across his bowl, counting under his breath;

"One.. Two.. Thr…"

"CHRISTIAN!"

"What?"

He put his head to one side and waited patiently for the expected response as Syed' flustered head popped around the door.

"There's no fucking hot water! I'm sick of this.."

"There was earlier."

"Ha, fucking Ha. I thought you were going to get Ian to sort it out?"

"That's my job, is it? Your names on the lease too, how about you talk to him?"

"He's your Brother in Law, you do it!" Syed suppressed an urge to shake his fist dramatically, musing that if he was wearing a hat, he'd want to throw it on the ground and stamp on it, and returned to the shower.

"Not for much longer.." Christian muttered, and stifled a laugh at the sound of Syed shrieking and swearing under the jet of freezing water.

He swept back into the room after five minutes, hair dripping, green dressing gown wrapped tight around him, teeth chattering, and stormed over to the kettle.

Slamming shut the cabinet door above it, he turned and glared at Christian, his tone accusatory.

"You had the last of the coffee."

Picking up the glass of water from the table beside him, Christian waggled it in his direction and shook his head.

"Not guilty." He gestured over to the bedside shelf.

"It's in that mug. That mug with your name on. Probably got a greasy film on the top of it now, but when I made it for you.." He twisted his wrist and checked the time on his watch, "…an hour and ten minutes ago, I expect it was quite nice. Delicious even. Wish I'd had some."

"You're such a martyr.." Syed's voice became muffled as he leant into the fridge.

".. and there's only Flora left. Why's there no butter?"

"All the butter that remained is on the limp toast, on the plate, under the marmalade, next to the cold coffee, in the mug, with your name on it."

Christian gathered up his empty bowl and glass and brushed past Syed, depositing them forcefully into the sink.

"Careful! You'll break them. Am I supposed to be grateful?" Slamming shut the fridge door, Syed frowned at Christian's back, wanting to push his head under the tap and turn it on full force.

"It wouldn't go amiss."

"Why didn't you get me up? No, not like that, don't say it, I remember that. I've got some new person pencilled in, I'm going to look so unprofessional…"

Syed abandoned the idea of breakfast and began to pull on his jeans, wincing as he stubbed his toe against a chair in his haste.

Leaning against the pillar, Christian asked with mock mildness;

"Is it a heavy pencil, or a light one?"

"Eh?" Syed glanced up through a mass of hair, struggling to thrust sockless feet into his boots.

"The booking. I daresay, if it was a heavy pencil, you had to get Tanya to help you lift it.." He ducked expertly, avoiding the copy of GQ that Syed had snatched up from the sofa and lobbed at his head.

"Fuck off, Christian. Where's my masseur jacket? Aaargh!"

"In the wash. It looked a bit grubby so I put it in the laundry basket with your smelly socks.." Seeing the look of outrage flash dangerously across Syed's face and spotting the pulse pounding in the hollow of his throat, Christian relented slightly.

"Joking. It's in the wardrobe. It's two minutes to nine by the way…"

With a rattle of clothes hangers, Syed grabbed the jacket and swiftly put it on, buttoning it wrongly. Christian opened his mouth to point this out, but decided against it as Syed banged out of the flat, leaving him with a parting death stare.

"Bye dear… Love you too.."

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><p>Christian pottered around, tidying up after Syed, whistling along to the radio. He recovered the dressing gown from the middle of the floor, where Syed had let it fall, smoothing it out carefully and hanging it next to his own on the back of the bathroom door. Tutting, he placed the discarded shower gel onto the shelf and picked up the soaking towel.<p>

As the radio announcer gave a time check, Christian quickly began to sort out the bed, lifting a pillow and automatically raising it to his face to inhale what remained of the scent from Syed's hair. He turned guiltily as the door creaked open.

"Hello."

"Hello. Didn't turn up then?" Christian made to throw the pillow down.

"Were you sniffing that Christian?" Syed smiled gently.

Dropping it, an embarrassed flush spread up Christian's neck..

"Might have been. So, turns out all the histrionics weren't necessary?"

"No. Sorry. I bought you something.."

Syed produced a cardboard cup from behind his back.

"..Cappuccino. Proper one from near the station, not Ian's rancid dishwater. I saw him though, asked about the boiler.."

"What did he say?"

"That we'd probably broken it and the money to repair it would come out of the deposit."

"He can sod off, I'll have a word.."

"No need. I put him straight. Took out my rage on him. Better him than you."

"Yes. Though you're adorable when you're angry." Christian took the coffee from him and sucked the froth from the top, beaming with satisfaction as it slid down his throat.

"Am I?"

"Always."

"You've tidied up!"

"Well, I'd left myself a bit of time before I need to start work.."

"Yeah, yeah. Put me to shame, Mr. Perfect…" Syed held out his hand,

"..you going to walk me across the square?"


End file.
